


Gaslight

by Sir_Thopas



Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Ableism, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Episode: s02e06 Trinity, Episode: s02e09 Aurora, Episode: s02e14 Grace Under Pressure, Episode: s03e08 McKay and Mrs. Miller, Episode: s03e14 Tao of Rodney, Episode: s03e17 Sunday, Gen, Medical Abuse, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Thopas/pseuds/Sir_Thopas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissistic. Arrogant. Coward. These were all words that were used to describe Rodney McKay. When people looked at him they saw the mad scientist, the friendless geek who would sacrifice the universe to serve his own ego. But that's okay. There are procedures now to fix that. Modern medicine will make him better whether he wants it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! This chapter contains a detailed description of a lobotomy. Also, some of the "nonsense" that Rodney says during the procedure actually come from Philip Glass's Einstein on the Beach, which I had been listening to when I came up with this story.

Rodney was going to win the science fair this year for sure. He had spent months working on his project, not to mention he deserved something for all of the bashed thumbs and chemical burns he received from trying to wield his dad's tools. He was so excited to show off what he had done. Rodney stood proudly beside his model of the atomic bomb, trying to will the judges closer with the power of his brain. The two lucky teachers that had been chosen this year were going around making little notes on everyone's contribution. He groaned in frustration as they came to a stop near Annabeth's booth and listened to her babble on about seeds and fruit skins or something. They seemed utterly _fascinated_. Rodney pulled at his face and slumped forward. Really? How long did it take to figure out if a tomato was a fruit or a vegetable?

It was a vegetable, right?

Finally! Rodney perked up again as the judges moved away from Annabeth, who was grinning brightly at the high praise they had given her. Ha, if the judges liked her project then he couldn't wait to show them his. He was going to blow their minds. Pun _completely_ intended.

Seated on his table was a nuclear warhead split in two to show the judges how the chain reaction occurred within a gun-type fission bomb, minus the uranium-235, of course. "Rodney," one of the teachers said with that weird sort of squinty-look teachers sometimes got when they talked to him. "What have you... got... here..."

Rodney grinned brightly at the way the teacher sort of trailed off, looking dumbfounded at the machine in front of him. The judges shot each other a look that clearly spoke of their disbelief, but no. There was no mistaking something like that. They knew a bomb when they saw one. "This is a model of the 'Little Boy' gun-type fission bomb that was detonated over Hiroshima in 1945."

Rodney's neighbor was a boy named Jason. His project had something to do with fruit flies. Rodney wasn't sure exactly what because it sounded stupid, so he hadn't bothered paying attention when his classmate tried explaining it. Jason, however, had apparently been listening intently to Rodney's introduction because all of a sudden the boy cried out "Rodney built a bomb!"

After that it was nothing but pure chaos.

* * *

Rodney tugged ineffectually against the thick padded straps that kept him chained to the bed. He could feel it rolling down the hall, the weaving motion making him feel sick. He closed his eyes against the sensation, but that only made it worse. He wrenched his eyes back open and the bright florescent light seemed to dance above him, making his drugged head swim. "Don't do this," he begged. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and he wasn't quite sure if his words were coming out the way intended them to. "The Wraith are evil. Serious, serious bad guys here. I'm not crazy."

"No one thinks you're crazy, Rodney." Rodney could hear the soothing voice of Dr. Ferin from somewhere above him. "This isn't a punishment. We're here to help you. After the procedure you'll feel like a new man. All those emotions, all that resentment and arrogance and narcissism that have been holding you back from establishing truly meaningful relationships will be gone. You'll be free. We can make you better; we can make you _happy_. Then you'll see that there's nothing to be afraid of."

The gurney came to a sudden stop and Rodney looked around, trying to pinpoint where he was, but his vision swam and another wave of nausea rolled over him. He felt someone take a strip of cloth and wrap it lengthways downs his face, over his nose and one eye. Another set of hands peeled back the eyelid that was still exposed. Rodney found himself looking at the kindly face of Dr. Ferin. He almost reminded Rodney of Carson with the way he smiled down at him, but the glint of the icepick hovering above his eye shattered the illusion. "Now, Rodney, you might feel some pressure in your eye socket and a vague sensation of... _wiggling_. But I assure you, you won't feel any pain. Now, I want you to take a deep breath and try to relax for me while counting backwards from ten."

"Ten." Rodney felt the tip of the icepick come to a rest underneath his eyelid and just above the eye itself. "Nine." The hammer came crashing down and with resounding _crack_ the alien psychiatrist began to nail the icepick through his eye socket and into his brain. Dr. Ferin was correct: he didn't feel any pain. "Eight." The pounding continued, vibrating through his skull. The sounds set him on edge, like a trip to the dentist. "Seven." The hammering had stopped and Rodney could feel the icepick scraping along the bone above his eye as the doctor wiggled it around. He cried out. This hurt. This hurt a lot. "Six. Sailboat. Four. We could get some wind for it. It could be a balloon. So it could be those ones. But these days of 888 cents in 100 coins of change... Five..."

"And that's when you know when to stop," Dr. Ferin explained as he gently removed the icepick from the man's eye. "Let's move on to the next one."

* * *

Rodney stepped out of the Gate and into a thriving metropolis. "Thank God it's not another farming village. I might actually be able to have a conversation with someone here who doesn't consider the wheel to be the height of technological advancement."

"Rodney," Teyla said in that slow, deliberate way that she used when she wanted him to shut up. "I know that I come from a simple farming village, but I hope that I have never burdened you unduly with my stupidity." There was a bite to her voice that made the hair on his arms rise up.

"No, no, of course not," he babbled. "Not unduly, anyway. Most people can't keep up with me and-"

"Now that Rodney has stuck his foot in his mouth, let's get moving. We're attracting strange looks," Sheppard commanded without giving him so much as a backwards glance. Rodney bit back a sigh as they all started forward. It was like that now between the two of them. Rodney would blurt out something callous or embarrassing and instead of snarking back to relieve the tension, Sheppard would just ignore him. The Colonel had told him it might take a while to regain his trust after Doranda, but Rodney had never been a patient man and he couldn't help but wonder when that might be.

Teyla bumped him lightly with her elbow as she passed, a slight smile on her lips as she looked back at him. He assumed she meant it to be affectionate, but it had kind of hurt. Was he going to bruise? Rodney rubbed it to see how tender it was. She shook her head, her smile growing fonder. "I am not so sure this is a good thing," she commented. "All of the advanced civilizations we have encountered so far have turned out to have some dark, evil secret."

Rodney had to concede she was right about that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are curious about the title, the term "gaslighting" refers to a form of psychological abuse where the abuser convinces the victim to doubt their own memory, perception or sanity. The term comes from the 1938 play Gas Light.

Getting arrested was the most terrifying thing to have happened to Rodney in his young life, much scarier than it had seemed on TV. The criminals in movies always seemed defiant or nonchalant, like they had done it a hundred times before. Of course, they were actors and not twelve year olds. The cops had even put him in handcuffs, shoving him quickly into the back of a police car as the bomb squad arrived to defuse a non-working model of a nuclear warhead.

This was all just some stupid mistake, obviously. He didn't know why no one bothered to listen when he tried explaining it, though.

Rodney shivered as he hunched down in his chair. The interrogation room they had placed him in wasn't helping his claustrophobia. Did he have claustrophobia? Well, in any case, he was definitely claustrophobic now. Great, add that to the list.

Finally the door opened and Rodney felt a rush of relief. His Mom and Dad were here now. They would know what to do. He just wanted to go home so badly.

But it wasn't his Mom or his Dad, just some blank-faced man in a black suit. The man took a seat in the chair across from Rodney, slapping down a folder on the table between them. He gave the boy what he assumed to be a comforting smile, though it seemed devoid of any actual emotion. "Meredith, I'd like to talk about what happened at school today."

"It's Rodney," he automatically replied. "And shouldn't my parents be here?"

"We're just asking a few questions; you're not a little kid, you don't need your parents for that, do you? Don't worry, we're not charging you with anything, but we need to understand what happened."

"It was just my science project!" Rodney blurted out. "It doesn't even work. Don't get me wrong, I mean it _could_ work. I am a genius, after all. But I'd need uranium and where would I get that? There not just handing that stuff out in parking lots. Honestly, I deserve that first place ribbon not a trip to jail!"

The detective blinked slowly at the rapid-fire speech Rodney delivered, trying to process everything the panicked boy had just said. "So, it does work?"

"No, well, yes, it could." Rodney didn't think he was explaining this very well.

"I've talked to a few of your teachers," the man started again. "They mentioned that you're often angry and that you don't seem to have any friends."

Rodney felt a wash of shame come over him at that, followed quickly by a rush of anger and heat. He really didn't have any friends. It was embarrassing not to have at least one friend and people were always bringing it up, like having friends was important or something. He couldn't figure out why no one wanted to hang around him. He didn't think he was that unlikable. He liked himself, after all. So, why didn't anyone else? There was only one reason he could think of: jealousy. That had to be it. Because otherwise -- if the other kids just simply hated him because he was _Rodney_ \-- then that meant he really was the freak everyone said he was."Um, hello? I already told you: I'm a genius. I shouldn't even be in the sixth grade. I could be finishing up high school right now. When you're forced to take lessons from people who are obviously dumber than you, of course you're going to get angry. Mr. Davis gave me detention last week because I corrected his math. He said I was being belligerent, but I wasn't, I was merely pointing that he was wrong. People don't like me because I'm so much smarter than them. They're jealous," Rodney insisted.

"And did you ever want to get them back for that?"

"Well, yeah, sometimes."

The man's eyes grew cold and calculating as he wrote something down in his manila folder. Rodney's stomach churned. He wondered if he had said something wrong.

"Can I see my parents now?" He asked plaintively.

The detective sighed, like he was disappointed in him. "If you really think you have to."

"Yes, please." He felt like he was going to cry and he really didn't want to do that. He said something wrong. He knew it. Oh, God, they wouldn't throw him in jail, would they? They couldn't. He was just a kid. They didn't put kids in prison.

He just wanted his parents.

* * *

Slowly, Rodney realized that the scraping had stopped.

There was yelling somewhere close by and the shadows that were dancing in front of his face disappeared. He could hear crunching, like bone and sinew breaking, a sound he had become all too familiar with since arriving on Atlantis. A woman screamed and there was the storming of feet on hard tile. Someone was running away. He thought he heard gunfire too, but he wasn't sure. It sounded more like a toy. Bang Snaps. He had loved Bang Snaps as a kid.

The spotty figure of a man was leaning over him. It was Sheppard. Even though his vision was swimming, he could recognize the Colonel's hair anywhere. Who seriously used that much gel? Other than Carson, of course. Oh God, he really hoped his last lucid thought wasn't about Sheppard's stupid hair. "You really shouldn't be anywhere near an open flame," Rodney stated. His tongue felt thick and heavy. "Your head is very flammable right now."

Sheppard ignored him. The man's hands hovered above his face like he didn't know what to do. "Rodney, you've got an icepick in your eye."

"It's not actually in my eye, it's in my brain," Rodney assured him. Actually, that didn't sound very assuring at all. It was kind of horrifying, really, but Rodney couldn't muster up any feeling other then dazed apathy. He thought it might have been the drugs. He hoped it was the drugs.

He heard Teyla from somewhere behind him. "What did you do to him?!"

"It's a simple medical procedure." That was the doctor speaking. "It takes ten minutes!"

"You lobotomized him!"

"Not completely!"

The icepick was pulled out and the heavy pressure he hadn't known he was feeling was suddenly lifted. He blinked up at Sheppard as the spots in front of his eyes slowly began to clear. "Hey, buddy," he said and Rodney would have done anything to have heard call him that before... after... "You need to move now."

Ronon and Sheppard pulled him into a sitting position. When did they remove the straps? Glancing back, Rodney could see the body of the doctor lying on the floor. "Wasn't he just talking?"

Sheppard gave him an agonized look. "No, don't you- don't you remember? Never mind, it's not important. We need to move. Do you understand? We have to reach the Gate."

Rodney wanted to say something mean and scathing. Of course he understood. He was a genius. Just a slight, minor case of brain damage. Nothing at all, really. Except he was sure he should at least feel a little concerned about it.

* * *

"What do you use to power your city with then if you don't use ZPMs?" Rodney demanded, waving the handheld device carelessly about. "I haven't detected any sort of alternate power generators near here."

The ambassador looked surprised at Rodney's frustrated outburst. "I'm not sure why your device is having such difficulty. It is not like our generators are shielded. If you want I can have my aide escort you to the site. It's not far."

Rodney looked hopefully at Sheppard. The planet they were on was roughly at the same stage of development as the Earth during the early 1990s. Computers, primitive space travel, all of that was at their disposal. Whatever was powering their city probably wasn't going to be advanced enough to provide Atlantis with any significant energy increase, but whatever it was it was unknown to Rodney. That in itself made it worth checking out.

"Ronon, go with McKay," Sheppard commanded, not bothering to give Rodney more than a second glance.

He supposed Sheppard was just being cautious; unknown planet, didn't want one of his team members to be on their own. But he thought there was something else underneath all that.

_Don't trust me?_

_No._

It felt like Sheppard wasn't asking Ronon to watch his back, but rather to make sure he didn't blow anything else up. The irritated look Ronon gave Sheppard didn't help matters any. It felt like he was back in grade school, the last one standing after everyone else had been picked for teams.

They followed the ambassador's aide through the winding city streets towards a large building that dominated the city skyline. The aide smiled brightly at them as they reached for the door and, after flashing the security guards her identification, gestured for them to follow her inside. For a second all Rodney could do was stand there in shock as he looked up at the "machines", feeling grateful that Sheppard had forced Ronon to come with him. The moment he stepped inside he knew things were about to go very bad. He was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the galaxy. Of course the device hadn't picked up any energy readings. He hadn't bothered to look for Wraith technology.

Ronon tensed up like a tightly coiled spring, his hand inching towards his gun as the aide walked up beside them. "It's amazing, isn't it?" She sighed, gesturing to the bastardized machine-organic hybrids. "Our gods showed us how to make these." She looked up reverently. "The Wraith have truly blessed us."

Before she could say anything else Ronon whipped his gun around and sent the butt of it crashing into her face. The woman crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll and the two were off running back out onto the street. "They're Wraith worshippers!" Rodney gasped. "We need to get Teyla and the Colonel and head back to the Gate!"

"Yeah, I figured that already," Ronon growled back at him.

Rodney could hear the sharp whistle of a policeman behind him and then all of a sudden he was facedown on the ground, bones aching from the blast of a Wraith stunner, his consciousness quickly slipping away.


	3. Chapter 3

"Meredith, this is for your own good."

"I told you, I don't like to be called that," Rodney snapped back. He folded his arms and sunk low in his chair, glaring at everything he saw. The room was covered in happy drawings, the plastic chairs were brightly colored, there was even one of those "fun" alphabet rugs that he hadn't seen since kindergarten. Worst of all was the woman sitting in front of him: Dr. Stiles, his court-mandated psychiatrist.

"You sound angry," she observed. Rodney couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"I don't want to be here."

"We just want to help you. We want you to be happy."

"I _was_ happy until some idiot confused a _non-working model_ for an actual bomb! Why is everyone too stupid to realize that?"

"This isn't just about the bomb, Meredith," Dr. Stiles huffed as her own irritation grew. Her fingers flew up to her forehead as she rubbed at the vein he could see just beneath the skin. "You're not here because you're smart. Lots of people are smart. You're here because you're _you_. You're brilliant and what do you decide to do with that brilliance? You built a nuclear bomb for your school science fair. Normal people don't do that."

It felt like a punch to the gut and all Rodney could do was stare helplessly back.

Dr. Stiles sighed, shifting a little as she started again. "Meredith -- _Rodney_ \-- I understand that it must be difficult for you and that you probably feel like a lot of people -- your parents, your teachers -- are holding you back. But you must understand how scary it is for the rest of us when you do something like this. Of all the things you could have done, why build a bomb? Can you answer that?"

Rodney shrugged helplessly. "I don't know! I really like Bang Snaps!"

The little vein was back.

* * *

Rodney woke up to a black eye, a pounding headache, and the sounds of people arguing.

"We need to do what is best for Rodney _and_ what is best for the expedition." That was Elizabeth. "I know it is difficult, but he can get better care on Earth."

Rodney felt his heart stop. He had been terrified that he would be sent back after what had happened on Doranda. But the order never came. Now it didn't even matter. He was going back anyway. Oh, God, what was going to happen to him? Rodney was suddenly aware of how little he knew of his own condition. What if he was a drooling idiot now? Would he even know? Quick, check for drool.

Rodney lifted his hand to wipe his mouth, but missed and hit his eye, striking the dark, purple bruise that ran around the socket. He stifled a groan in his pillow as the pain in his head spiked hot and sharp. Okay, so he failed the first test. Rodney decided to pin his lack of coordination on the drugs that still made everything a little foggy and not on any lingering brain damage. _Brain damage_. The sound of it sent his blood racing, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Would they stick him in a home? Or, would they force him to live with Jeannie? She was still his power of attorney, despite the many years of separation between them.

Voices rose up in unison. There was Sheppard's quick, sharp "No." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command. Ronon's quiet, but firm, "He should be with people who care about him." Teyla was as calm and steady as ever, but anyone with ears could hear the reproach in her voice when she said, "Is it customary among your people to abandon the ill and injured when they are no longer of any use?"

"But we don't know what the effects will be!" Rodney immediately picked up on Carson's thick brogue. "The brain is a highly complex organ. Before the procedure was abandoned on Earth, results varied wildly. Some people became vegetables, others it appeared to have no effect at all, and everything in between. I've spoken with Rodney. He seems to be missing some memories and was a little... subdued. It could be that the lobotomy scrambled with his personality and emotions, or it could simply be the drugs. We won't know for certain until we've had him under observation for a while. But he was alert, he recited pi to some ungodly number, and he had clear knowledge of where he was and who he was. I say we wait until we have a better understanding of what happened."

Rodney didn't remember talking to Carson before. He didn't remember getting back to Atlantis at all. Time seemed to be slipping away from him because suddenly Sheppard was at his bedside. It frightened him to think he was losing memories. "Hey," he said, with that half-smirk that he knew irritated Rodney and used to wind him up. "How you doing?"

"Like I've been jabbed repeatedly in the brain with a sharp object, oh wait..." It wasn't Rodney's best. He couldn't muster enough strength for sarcasm at the moment, but Sheppard's smirk bloomed into a wide grin and Rodney thought he had never seen him so happy.

"So, just like a normal day of working with Kavanaugh then?"

Rodney wanted to say something funny, something mean and flippant that never even hinted at his true feelings, because that's not what he and Sheppard did. But instead he let out a shuddering breath and whispered, "I'm afraid I've already lost myself and I don't even know it."

"You're going to be fine." Sheppard refused to listen to anything he didn't want to hear. He would order the dead to rise. "What do you remember?"

Rodney sighed as he searched his memory. "I remember arriving on the planet, getting captured. I remember talking with a doctor at some point. But that's it, everything else..."

Sheppard shook his head, cutting him off. "Hey, that's good. You're doing great. What do you remember before that?"

He took another breath. "I remember you turning into a bug, and I remember being on the Aurora, and--" Rodney suddenly cut himself off as an idea suddenly struck him, like lightning. This was his chance to make things right with John... _Sheppard_ again. "And I remember Cadman sharing my body."

John couldn't hold Doranda against him if Rodney couldn't even remember it.

Sheppard sat there and stared at Rodney. It felt like his dark eyes could pierce into his very soul and see every black fault within him. Rodney tilted his chin up, defiant, even if he couldn't meet his eyes. He glanced at everything: his hands, the bed, the stupid beeping machines. Anything but John.

Suddenly, Sheppard let out a laugh and Rodney felt his hand on his shoulder. "You're an asshole, you know that?" He asked. There was a strange smile on his face, caught somewhere between irritation and fondness. "You're going to be just fine."

* * *

When Rodney became aware again he found himself sitting in a circle, surrounded by empty-eyed inmates and a man in a lab coat. His clothes had been taken from him -- along with his sidearm and tech, of course, because the universe couldn't just make things easy for him -- and the natives had dressed him in a simple cotton uniform with drawstring pants and slippers. No buttons, no zippers, nothing that would be too complex for a three year old. The thought that they had stripped him without his knowledge sent a shiver down Rodney's spine.

"Ah, Rodney, is there something you would like to share with the group?" The genial-looking doctor asked. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Where's Ronon?" He demanded instead. "What happened to Colonel Sheppard and Teyla?"

The doctor gave him a puzzled look. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Who are these people?"

"You're kidding, right? We're the aliens who came through the Stargate this morning. That's the big circle thing in the middle of your city, just in case you conveniently forgot what that was too. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. No one's come through there in ages, and you... You've been here for several years now. Don't you remember?" The doctor looked concerned. Rodney rolled his eyes at the charade.

"As far as mind games go, this has got to be the worst attempt I've ever seen. I'm not crazy. People smarter than you have tried to convince me otherwise and they failed." He stood up, ready to walk out and find his team himself. Except two orderlies stepped out of the shadows to stand in front of him. They were large, as easily as large as Ronon, with biceps bigger than Rodney's head. He quickly sat back down.

The doctor sighed and shook his head. "And we had been making so much progress too."

Panic was starting to well up inside him. "Whatever is going on here, I'll figure it out. You can't hope to keep me here. You think you're the greatest thing in the Pegasus Galaxy because you have _computers_? Please, I was building computers more advanced than the junk you have lying around here by the time I was five. I am the smartest man in two galaxies--"

"Rodney," the doctor sighed like he had heard this all before. "Must you carry on like this all the time? Yes, we get it, you're brilliant. You keep everyone alive inside your imaginary world -- this Atlantis you keep speaking of -- with that big brain of yours. It's the only thing you have, isn't it? If you didn't have that, where would you be? It's not like you're winning any friends with _that_ personality. You're not even good-looking. No one really wants you. They just keep you around because they need you. So, go on, then. Keep reminding them how smart you are. Keep telling them how much they need you, how lost they would be. You can't let them forget, you can't let them think for one minute that they would be better off without you, otherwise they'll drop you. They'll take the first chance they get and leave. You just keep screaming at the world, hoping that there's someone listening."

It felt like the entire world had been ripped out from beneath Rodney's feet. The doctor had thrown back his own words at him, the thoughts he kept safely locked away until it was 3 am and he couldn't sleep, couldn't stop them from slipping out even if he wanted to. How could he have known all of that? The doctor stood up and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Rodney was struck by his face, how kind and sympathetic and... _generic_ he looked. It was the kind of face that Rodney thought he could stare at for a hundred years and yet still pass by on the street without any recognition. "It's not your fault you're like this," the doctor said. "Some people... are just born wrong. Most people eventually learn to empathize with others, to understand what it means to be a human being. But there are those like yourself that... need a little help. There are procedures now that can fix you."


End file.
